This afternoon, I learned of the horrific events at the Boston Marathon. Two friends of mine ran in this year’s marathon. Fortunately, they were uninjured.
I lived near Boston for nine years, and took the train into North Station nearly every Saturday, either for a concert at Symphony Hall or for shopping. My Saturday shopping took me from Tower Records (now closed) on the corner of Massachusetts Avenue & Newbury Street, then to Boylston Street via Gloucester Street. I would then stop at Glad Day Bookshop (also closed now) which was almost exactly where the first blast hit. It was at the Boston Public Library, across the street from the first blast site, where I first heard Rachmaninoff's own recordings of his piano concertos.
Make no mistake: Whether this was an act of one lone nut, or a domestic or international terrorist group – this was an act of terror.
Yesterday, after the explosions, Boston's Finest and ordinary citizens rushed in to provide assistance and comfort. That is the spirit of Boston, and it shall prevail.
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